Veritas
by Sydella
Summary: In his last moments, Daemon reflects on his life and how it got to this point.


Imagine, if you will, how a man's life can unfold like a play.

Take a seat and wait for the stage curtains to rise.

**Act 1: The Exposition**

In the beginning, Daemon was in love. Not just with Elena, but with life. The Vongola. Everything.

He had money, power, the woman he loved by his side and a family to come home to. Sure, maybe Giotto seemed a little too idealistic, and ominous rumours of a Mafia war lurked in every conversation, but life was good. Blissful, even. What could go wrong? What could _possibly _have gone wrong?

Silly questions, in hindsight.

**Act 2: Rising Action**

Daemon wanted so badly to believe that the rumours were wrong. The Vongola were invincible. Or so he told himself. The dangerous thing about lying to oneself is that after a while, one begins to believe in one's own version of the truth.

Cozart, pure-hearted, red-headed, foolish Cozart, just kept talking about peace and love and justice as if he was the last man on earth and had a duty to resurrect humankind.

Glaring at him, Daemon held on to Elena like a drowning man and wondered if it was too late to leave the Vongola. As always, the answer was, of course, a resounding yes.

**Act 3: The Climax**

Blood. Blood everywhere. On the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor. Smeared all over Daemon's clothes, because a dying Elena had run her hands all over him, as if desperate for one last lover's touch.

He felt nauseous. This was a nightmare in every sense of the word, except for the part where he woke up. He was never going to wake up from this.

"Daemon!" G burst in and abruptly halted in his tracks, horror written all over the Storm Guardian's face. "Oh, gods."

"Leave me alone." Daemon's voice was hoarse but steady.

"But you're-"

"I _said_, leave me alone." Daemon left the room without looking back.

When Ricardo offered him a chance to be the second-generation Mist Guardian, he took it without even thinking twice. Traitor, he was labelled. Turncoat. Backstabber. _Judas_.

But the ugly truth is, the only person he has ever betrayed is himself.

**Act 4: Falling Action**

Of all the other first-generation Guardians' reactions, it was Alaude's that hurt the most. Daemon tentatively suggested that they work together, knowing that Alaude did not truly consider himself bound to Giotto. But the Cloud Guardian simply looked right past him, censure emanating from every pore. Both knew that they did not care for each other anymore, if indeed they ever had. Daemon watched Alaude walk away and tried not to feel regret.

Once, Ricardo took his Guardians to watch a play (even Mafiosi have to relax every so often, and they had a public image to maintain). It was a church-funded production that told the all too familiar story of Judas's betrayal. After the play had ended, Daemon's fellow second-generation Guardians argued heatedly amongst themselves about which actor had given the best performance and how the play measured up to other productions they had seen. Daemon smiled as he listened to them, resisting a sudden feeling of discomfort. The irony of having exchanged one boisterous group of Guardians for another was not lost on him.

"Are you all right?" Ricardo asked dispassionately, in the tone of someone inquiring about the weather. Cold and impersonal, the second Vongola boss cared no more for his Guardians than he would a pile of inanimate objects. Daemon appreciated that. A Mafia boss must be ruthless and intimidating, the exact opposite of weak, soft, gentle Giotto…goose bumps rose on his skin and he wondered why his eyes suddenly felt a little watery.

"I'm fine," he muttered, turning away. "Absolutely fine."

**Act 5: Denouement/Resolution**

Time flies even when you're dead. Daemon watched Vongola boss after Vongola boss march onto and off the stages in life. Yes, come in, that's your cue; now make way for the next actor and exit stage left. Break a leg. Or actually, don't. "All the world's a stage," as the Bard himself said. The Vongola will always be here for the audience's entertainment.

All good (bad?) things must come to an end, however, and Tsunayoshi Sawada interrupted with an unscripted special guest performance. The smaller, younger brunette version of Giotto watched with mournful eyes as Daemon fell off the stage and disappeared at curtain call. _Don't weep for me_, he called out, but his words went unheard amidst the din of the audience as they gave a standing ovation.

_**Encore**_

Daemon saw the lights. Oh, how they shone on him although he now understood that he was not the star of the show and had never been. He stretched out a hand and thought he could touch them. A halo glimmered around the very tips of his fingers.

The audience left the theatre. His last thoughts were _Wait for me, Elena. It's all over now_.


End file.
